


sa ilalim ng puting ilaw

by poeticaid



Series: SaiMota Week 2018 [4]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Canon Related, Character Study, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mirrors, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 13:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16893582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poeticaid/pseuds/poeticaid
Summary: But Shuichi still looks at the mirror. Seeing his failures and Momota himself.Saimota Week Day 4: Mourning or Dancing (Mourning)





	sa ilalim ng puting ilaw

**Author's Note:**

> also a late one... the one for today will be moved tomorrow, with the other prompt.

Saihara looks through the glass, to find a man he will never be. Who never got to live the life he had always wanted. Momota was a flame in the game. Faithful, optimistic, yet so secretive and indignant at times. And yet, in the darkest hour, he was estinguished. At least it wasn't Monokuma who killed him, no.

He was killed by his own disease.

Saihara was so ignorant. He was so caught up in his own problems he had not checked on his friend's health. Momota, if he was alive, would tell him to not feel guilty, to always move forward. But Shuichi can't move forward. The game took many of them, and warped their minds to kill for people's entertainment.

He looks at himself again, but instead of the radiant Momota looking back at him, it was who he _was_ before the game. His smile was the epitome of pity and psychopathy. Harukawa and Yumeno tell him all the time, he was not a monster. He was not _this_ pathetic animal.

But Saihara had been that monster. And so had been everyone in the game. Even Momota himself had undergone a transformation from his old self. Momota was a monster, just like him, in the past. Most of them were. But what Saihara was disturbed most about was the video about Momota.

Momota saying that he was going to murder all participants in the game in exchange for money. That was not the man he knew and fell in love with. He fell in love with an insistent, optimistic, gruff and -slightly- shallow person, even if it wasn't intended.

And even after Shirogane showed him who he was, he was still in love with him. Shuichi tried desperately to make him stop falling in love with someone he doesn't even know, someone who seems to be an enemy to his eyes.

He fell in love with Momota so fast, and now it was coming back to bite him. He was not falling out of love, as if Venus wanted him to take his love to a grave like a clichè romance movie.

He remembered the first time he saw him, with his spiky pruple hair and goatee, his purple jacket with stars imprinted on it. The way he looked at the wall with confusion and panic made Saihara's heart surge with longing, with belief that maybe he can get with this guy.

Then the days progressed. Shuichi had felt the infatuation and attraction growing stronger and stronger. Yes, he has felt remorse and mourned Akamatsu's death along with his beloved Momota's, but he misses Momota the most. He came to terms with his feelings after he had reconciled with Momota in that room, in the room where he was convicted to murder. Of course, he was guilty that he had to share his feelinfs with Harukawa, who had also been in love with him.

But... Harukawa was gone. She disappeared, leaving he and Yumeno in the streets, to fend for themselves. Saihara didn't know why she left them so suddenly, but keeps on insisting she had done the right thing, though horribly wrong.

Yumeno was empty. Void of emotions. He has seen her in multiple bars and clubs, talking to silver-haired girls, or black-haired women. It shows how much she had missed Yonaga and Chabashira. She rarely comes home to the block of wall that Saihara calls an apartment. She would always be roaming the cities, her mind only recognizing parts of her lovers, and her mental state's well being decreasing each day, until she was no more.

Saihara was back at the present, staring into a mirror in which he recounts his sufferings, his misfortunes, and his shattered dreams. He's been living a long life, a new life out of the dust. He chastises himself, telling him it has been seven years. Seven years since Akamatsu's death, seven years since Momota's death, and seven years since the fall of Danganronpa. It was a distant memory in people's brains now, hardwired into their minds as some sort of punishment for the things they've done in fifty three years of service, of looking for entertainment, and of seeing people die.

Saihara is the host, full of nutrients, and the mirror is the parasite, feeding, living off its host 'till the day it dies. It warps Saihara's reflection to the many things that plague his mind, to Akamatsu's execution, to Momota's. Saihara wants to break, to finally die at the hands of his own insanity, but something was holding him back from ending it all. From ending himself and his own life.

Saihara looks back at the mirror, and sees his self again. Gaunt, thin, shadowed eyes, everything. He was the definition of an emotionally broken and confused person, and he has no idea how to turn himself back to who he was before the show.

He was selfish, he knows that.

Saihara goes downstairs to cook his and Yumeno's dinner, hoping that the girl would come back. Before cooking, though, he replays Momota's tape, listening to him speaking, talking about how he was going to kill everyone in the game, and getting all the money in the show. It was driving Saihara mad, honestly, listening to Momota's deranged monologue for the past seven years with no stop. But he can't stop.

Saihara looks up at the stars, the only thing that can keep him at bay, that can keep him from falling to the sad life he already leads.

"I love you, Kaito, no matter what."


End file.
